


Right Here

by WahlBuilder



Series: 30 days of rarepairs [7]
Category: Mars: War Logs, The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Weddings, a dash of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 11:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13612776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Friends help friends out, right? Especially when friends want to have a wedding.





	Right Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PolarGrizz47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/gifts).



> With a bit of Roy/Innocence/Tenacity, but I decided to not put it into tags since it's not the main focus of the story.

Innocence was humming a tune that had come to him a few moments ago without attempting to recall what song it was. He was too busy trying to tie his cravat, but the slick red piece was stubbornly slipping through his fingers. That, or he was just too clumsy.

He jumped when a voice said, “Do you need—sorry for spooking you—do you need help with that?”

Innocence looked into the mirror at his reflection. The cravat was hanging from his neck and slowly sliding down. He looked at Tenacity’s reflection. Temperance was not with him, probably harassing the guests by tickling them with his antennae or playing with Fluffy. Attempting to do both at the same time, most likely. Innocence smiled into the mirror, trying to silently apologize for his ineptitude. “Yes, Tenacity, please.”

He moved away from the mirror, but Tenacity got behind him and moved his hands around him and to his throat. Innocence lifted his chin, leaning slightly onto Tenacity’s broad chest, for once not open to the glare of the whole world but instead properly covered with closed coat. Tenacity’s fingers picked the ends of the neckband and run over them in a gesture that called Innocence’s mind to something else. His cheeks burned, and he turned his gaze to the reflection—which didn’t improve the situation: Tenacity had that private, crooked smirk on his lips that made even Roy fidget so many times.

“Stop that,” Innocence grumbled, shifting from foot to foot. He felt hot under his jacket.

“Not doing anything,” Tenacity purred right above his ear, and his neat red beard scratched against Innocence’s temple. “Besides helping you.”

This close, Tenacity smelled of the oil he used to maintain his crossrifle, and leather, and fat rubbed into the leather coat. It was long, that coat, made from a hide of an old mole, with red glistening in the cracks in the overall black.

Tenacity was wearing a cravat, too, red and puffed up over his throat.

And while Innocence watched and listened to his own experience of Tenacity, the big hands moved to his shoulders and patted them. Innocence blinked and focused on his reflection once more. The cravat was tied, lying softly against his neck, caressing it like a touch, and Innocence hadn’t even paid attention to how Tenacity had done it.

“Are you ready?” Tenacity rumbled, and Innocence looked up and smiled.

“Yes.” He turned. “No. Wait.”

Tenacity raised an eyebrow, and Innocence reached up and straightened the small star in the lapel of Tenacity’s coat—a tiny white flower, earthlight. Its scent, sweet and full of longing, twined with the smell of leather and oil.

Then Innocence picked a small basket full of stars of earthlight and nodded. “Now we are ready.”

* * *

 

_Innocence was lost, he could admit it. The Prince’s palace was not big—or so it had seemed initially. It turned out, however, that it sprawled on and on, well beyond the palace walls proper, its halls half-lit, panels etched with mesmerizing patterns, the air permeated with sweet smoke that moved like currents in the air._

_It felt unreal as Innocence moved, like a jellyfish, unhurried,—until he heard voices. Muffled, they beckoned him, and he followed them until he recognized one of them as Roy’s voice. Elated, he hastened, steps swallowed by a thick carpet._

_A heavy curtain separated the room Roy was in from the hallway, painted in a pattern of swirls, and as Innocence reached out to push it away, he recognized the second voice—and hesitated._

_“You will do it for us? Really?” Zachariah’s voice was quivering, woven through with emotions that Innocence would have painted as a mix of joy and disbelief._

_“Yes, really. Technically, I still can, even though we’re not in Aurora, so… I shall.” Roy sounded almost embarrassed, but pleased, too._

_There was a creaking sound of leather being clasped, and Innocence half-closed his eyes, stepping away and smiling. He could picture it perfectly: Zachariah squeezing Roy’s arm, leaning forward with eyes overbright; Roy with his head inclined._

_So it was on._

* * *

 

The palace was bustling, people in their best clothes, with flowers in their hands, flowing in through the main doors that were thrown wide open for the occasion. Innocence kept the basket close to himself as he followed Tenacity to the stairs leading to the Prince’s balcony. The stairs, the columns, everything was adornment with garlands of earthlight, their starking whiteness a contrast to the colors of the palace.

On the stairs, a couple of Technomancers huddled together, baskets with flowers clutched in gloved hands along with staves, collapsed for now. The Abundance pin was absent from their jackets, replaced by the fragile beauty of earthlight blooms. Innocence nodded to them, and they nodded back.

A chirr and a _clok-clok-clok_ of clawed feet on the floor announced presence of two hounds. Innocence patted Temperance’s muzzle: the great hound had turned black over the last year, massive, nearly as tall as Roy at the shoulder. Temperance still chirred gently whenever Innocence patted him. And now, another chirring followed, and antennae touched Innocence’s hand. Fluffy was much smaller than Temperance, coming only to Innocence’s waist, and mostly rusty red. Innocence patted him, too. “You will be good boys, right?” he asked, and the two hounds chirred in reply and trotted away.

“You should be a hound master one day,” Tenacity snorted.

Innocence looked him over and smiled, a wicked thought occurring to him—a small revenge for Tenacity’s teasings by the mirror. “Ah yes, I’m good at taming wild beasts.” He snickered at the way Tenacity’s face went all stone, and moved past him. “People are waiting, Tenacity, let’s go!”

The balcony was full of people, though there were fewer splashes of the bright colors of free merchants and dwellers of Noctis, and more of the muted dark solemnity of Technomancers of Abundance. They were forming a loosely shaped corridor, holding staves in relaxed hands. The staves were not weapons for this day, but solely artifacts of kinship, of the bond their wielders shared with the two most important people of the day. A few Technomancers moved aside, and Innocence’s step failed for a few beats.

The way was free to the fountain singing with water, and the man seated on the low stone rim of the pool of the fountain, a low clay pot dipped in green glaze by his feet. He looked up and got up and smiled. “Innocence.”

Roy was resplendent in the Auroran blues of Technomancer officer, the longcoat showing the lines of Roy’s body—the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, his hips—that his usual attire of choice, mostly padded jackets and baggy pants, concealed most of the time. Innocence had seen this particular coat when Roy had produced it, but nobody, not even Tenacity, could tell Innocence where Roy had even gotten the uniform. It was possible to obtain nearly anything in Noctis, of course, but this coat didn’t look like it was a stolen and smuggled piece. There were things that told a different story: little nicks and discolored patches, long lines like cuts, and cracks as though the coat was stored away from sand but not rubbed with enough fat to preserve the leather properly. It was something that befitted Roy quite well.

And then, there was the wire circlet. Silvery and glinting in the noonlight filtering from above, held in place tightly and running under skin on Roy’s temples where connectors were hidden, it made Roy look… different. This was an aspect of Roy Innocence had never seen before.

A Technomancer, but not as a weapon—as a mystic, revered and feared. And neither the scratches on the coat nor the fact he was wearing only one Technomantic glove on his left hand, not even the fact that the knuckles of his right hand were busted from a recent mole hunt made the overall looks less awe-inspiring. Quite the opposite: he was a mystic-warrior. Unlike the Abundance Technomancers gathered here, Roy wasn’t holding a staff or any other kind of weapon.

He simply didn’t _need_ it.

“Innocence?”

He blinked a few times, the world around him sharpening back into focus, and smiled. “You look astonishing.”

Roy scratched his cheek. “Suits the ceremony…” Then he clasped Innocence’s shoulder—with his right hand, not left. “Come on, we’re ready to start.”

Innocence nodded, he hadn’t forgotten what they had gathered for. He handed the basket to Tenacity, bent down, picked the clay pot, and hastened for his place, his heart starting to race. This was it.

Everyone else on the balcony was moving into their appropriate places, too. A few giggles jumped over the gathering like spooked mantas. At last the noises started fading, the Technomancers reformed the corridor leading to the fountain and Roy, Innocence shifted from foot to foot by Roy’s side.

Everyone started craning their necks towards the stairs.

And then, two more figures appeared on the balcony.

There was no music—they had decided against it—but in its stead, the Technomancers, their kindred, raised their staves in a perfectly synchronized motion in front of their chests, extended them, and their ends rang on the floor as one. And they began hitting the floor in a rhythm, ringing and loud, small sparks escaping down the shafts. And the two walked between their kindred hand in hand, smiling, eyes forward, but everything in the slight tilt of their bodies and the inclination of their heads signaled how much they wanted to look at each other.

They reached the fountain and turned to each other, finally locking eyes, and the Technomancers lowered their staves on the floor the last time with a resolute ring that carried out of the palace. The guests shuffled again, but it soon died once more as Roy smiled at the both Technomancers.

Zachariah and Sean now had the eyes only for each other, holding hands between them by the tips of their fingers. The two men were glowing, and once or twice sparks ran from Zachariah to Sean through their fingers. Sean didn’t even flinch. They wore the solemn jackets of their Technomantic uniform, just like their kindred, and instead of Abundance pins they, too, had earthlight. Sean wasn’t wearing the wires, though, his head bare. Human.

“Dear friends!” Roy spoke. He wasn’t loud, but his voice carried easily over the balcony—and it felt like the whole of Noctis, usually bustling with noise, became quiet, too. Listening. Watching. “Free people of Noctis, free mutants of the Valley! And of course,” Roy spread his arms, looking to the sides, “my Technomantic cousins. We are here to celebrate something our rusty planet desperately needs: a union.” The corner of his lips twitched, and he lowered his arms. “Now, I must be frank, I wasn’t trained for this and don’t quite remember the proper ritual words—” that earned him a laugh, “—so I’m going to wing it and speak from my heart.”

He turned slightly to Innocence, and Innocence gave him the pot. A small, only Innocence’s palm in all, sapling in the perfect center of the pot wavered. Roy gave Innocence a small smile, turned to the gathering and placed the pot between Zachariah and Sean’s hands, and Roy’s expression softened. “I know enough of my Abundance cousins to realize how important it is, not a simple wedding, but something that was forbidden, denied to you and the countless of Abundance Technomancers before you. Unity, and security, and closeness; a bond so tight few things can break it. At the same time, it’s not all about that. It’s about the two of you.”

Sean’s fingers twitched on the pot, began to tremble slightly, but Innocence knew the pot weighted little. It wasn’t from that. Sean’s eyes sparkled, looking at Zachariah with such intensity that Innocence had seen in but a few people ever.

Roy turned to the fountain, picked a cup—an elaborate piece just like everything in the Prince’s possession, a gift from him to the two Technomancers, light catching in painted glass. Innocence had painted it with swirls of green and the tiniest of leaves he could paint. Roy filled it with sparkling water, holding it high in the air. “Zachariah Rogue Mancer. Sean Mancer. If any of you has any doubts, you may leave now, and nobody will hold it against you.”

Zachariah’s cheeks were splotched rosy, and in that moment Innocence tried to commit the whole scene to his memory to later paint it. “I have no doubts,” said Zachariah, his eyelashes fluttering, “that I want you as my husband, Sean Mancer, like soil wants water, like land yearns for—” his voice croaked, and Sean slid his fingers on the painted clay closer to Zachariah’s who composed himself and raised his voice, “—for shade, like Mars wishes for Earth. Now and forever.”

He moved a hand under the pot and reached with the other blindly, and Roy pressed the cup into it. Zachariah drank and nearly dropped it if Roy hadn’t taken it away. Zachariah licked droplets from his lips.

“I have no doubts,” Sean echoed, his voice unwavering and strong much like Roy’s—solemn, “that I want you as my husband, Zachariah Rogue Mancer, like soil wants water, like land yearns for shade. Like Mars wishes for Earth. Now—and forever.” His hand moved under the pot, too, covering Zachariah’s hand, and he accepted the cup and tasted water, but didn’t give the vessel back.

They held it together then, the sapling and the cup, hands locked forever, and poured the remaining water over into the pot. Drops glittered on small impossibly green leaves.

And then, as one, they dropped the cup. The sturdy glass cracked but didn’t shatter, and then both of them stepped on it, shattering into tiniest pieces, and white flowers showered on them like rain of stars, thrown by the gathering with cheers.

From the moment they turned to each other to this shattering, Sean and Zachariah hadn’t looked away from each other.

* * *

 

There were tears.

Dandolo cried and didn’t try to hide it, going through a dozen handkerchiefs in just a few minutes, offering blessings and congratulations for the happy couple in a broken voice.

But there were other tears, too. Angry, silent, with clenched fists and gritted teeth. Mourning lost loved ones, mourning loves broken apart just because someone in Abundance had decided Technomancers were nothing but living weapons, wild animals to be isolated and broken.

Innocence had seen a woman—and for her gray hair she could be much older than Roy or could be way younger, there was no way to tell with Technomancers—curled up in an alcove with a fist pressed into her mouth, shaking with inaudible wails. Innocence left her and promised to himself to paint her grief, too.

A group of older Technomancers, holding cups and with their staves clenched tight, talking about their previous Great Master and someone they were calling “Master Connor”. Exchanging stories and wondering what could have been, what  should have been.

Innocence left them to their vigil, too.

The celebration had spilled outside the palace hours ago, and on the platform just in front of the great doors dancing was being held. A band from the Valley, with musical instruments Innocence had never seen before, was playing a cheerful tune that somehow wasn’t clashing with music reaching the platform from somewhere below where another band was playing. People were colorful shapes and laughing lines, and in the midst of them, Zachariah and Sean, their jackets discarded somewhere, shirts striking white. Their feet were tapping to the tune, arms clasped on each other’s waist. Someone tied a scarf to Sean’s shoulder, and in the changing light and cheer it was a blur of colors. Fluffy was prancing around them with happy chirrs.

Innocence felt a little lost, wondering where his own companions were. He picked a wine plum from a bowl forgotten by someone on a small table, juice dripping down his fingers. The tune ended on a happy note, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause for the happy couple. Innocence swallowed the plum hastily and licked the juice off his fingers—and paused when the band moved back slightly on their seats as two people stepped forward to take their place.

Tenacity had left his coat somewhere, and although the cravat was still on his neck, it was only loosely tied, dipping into the half-opened collar of his shirt. Roy’s blue coat was fully opened, breaking the previous grand impression and making him look more like… well, Roy. He left the glove somewhere, too, and the wire circlet. Both of them put high stools on the raised scene. Tenacity was also carrying a guitar, its body a deep rusty red and carved, the many strings taught.

The crowd dispersed, perching on railings and stools; Sean led Zachariah to the edge of the platform, holding his hand, and leaned to him, saying something that made Zachariah’s face light up. There were earthlight petals in Zachariah’s graying hair, and Sean picked one of them, rubbing it between his fingers. They settled there, bodies inclined towards each other, forming a triangle painted into the surrounding world, but still an independent shape on its own.

Innocence turned to the stage where Tenacity and Roy were already seated, Tenacity with one leg on the foot rest, hugging the guitar, and Roy mirroring his position. Tenacity told Roy something, Roy chuckled, a flash of teeth, then Tenacity curled his fingers around the neck of the instrument and looked expectantly at Roy.

Roy nodded to Tenacity.

The melody was fairly simple, a few chords coaxed from the guitar by Tenacity’s steady hand, warm and intimate, and then Roy joined the music, his voice strong and carrying over the platforms, words simple, but not diminished by that. And unlike nearly every time before that, Roy’s voice wasn’t hesitant. He dove into the song with all his heart, eyes half-closed—just a conduit to the music.

Innocence let it carry him away.

At least for one night, Mars knew peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Polar, you know what song Roy was singing.
> 
> Come talk Mars with me at [my tumblr](https://valueyourwahls.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
